


The Blacksmith

by HDLynn



Series: The Blacksmith [1]
Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Grumpy Pero with a soft center, Living History Museum!AU, Pero drinks his respect women juice every damn day, Pero's glower needs a warning all of its own, Sexual Harassment, a child is missing for like a moment, also forearms and rolled up sleeves, blacksmith!pero, gentle!Pero, implied threats, like it feels a bit like a hallmark movie tbh, people disrespecting customer facing workers, protective!Pero, self indulgent from my retail days and my history buff heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28838610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDLynn/pseuds/HDLynn
Summary: When you started working at the Living History Museum as a tour guide, you never expected how the glowering blacksmith would take a shine to you.
Relationships: Pero Tovar/Reader, Pero Tovar/You
Series: The Blacksmith [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158605
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	The Blacksmith

To say you had been rather intimidated by the blacksmith was an understatement when you had started working at the local living history museum. It was a fun yet hard job, to be sure, it was no picnic being a tour guide for groups of up to 20 or 30 people while keeping in character. Though you did like how getting dressed for work meant putting on the different layers of clothing like those from the 1760s.

The layers of putting on the stockings, chemise, stays, petticoats, overskirts, jacket, and little cap all made it feel like you were getting into character. Because you did have to get into character, pretending to be a young lady of the working class of the era. It had been exciting to go with your manager on your first day, meeting your new coworkers who manned the different locations of the museum. Everyone was darling until you got to the blacksmith’s location where you had met the glowering and scowling Pero Tovar.

He was the main blacksmith of the museum and you had thought you had gotten off on the wrong foot somehow with him, but you quickly had realized that was just… how he looked. The scowl was almost permanently etched into his face and didn’t seem to be about anything you did so you brushed it off.

That was until a few weeks ago, on your last tour of the day. It was with a rather small group and one of the men had been… well he was being creepy. It happened on occasion, people not seeing you as a person so much as a prop. Normally you were able to brush things off pretty well, play dumb with some of the more modern jokes or turns of phrase since you were a good girl from the 1760’s thank you very much. But then when everyone should have been paying attention in the smithy to the blacksmith showing how a horseshoe was made, the horrid man had started asking about your undergarments and you knew he wasn’t actually interested in anything but the titillation of embarrassing you.

Tovar’s voice had cracked through the air as sharp as his hammer striking the glowing red metal he worked with every day.

“It isn’t appropriate to talk to a lady like that,” he growled. Somehow, perfectly in character, but there was no humor in his glaring dark brown eyes at all.

The offensive man had muttered something banal and not anything near an apology but he backed off. Though… he would have to be very stupid indeed to continue on with his actions when he was being confronted by a glowering man holding a hammer as he put the now finished horseshoe into the bucket of cold water with a hiss of steam. To you, he looked like a warrior of old being spat out by fire and brimstone to defend your honor. The museum guest though? Well, you were rather sure he just about pissed himself before mumbling something that might have been an excuse or an apology, it was hard to tell and you were… distracted. Had Pero always been that broad?

When your group headed out to the next location, you shot him a grateful look and he gave you a nod as you slipped out. The man didn’t speak up at all for the rest of the tour and you were grateful for it.

Later that evening, as everyone packed up to head home, you had been surprised when Pero had jogged over to you, his hair pushed back and sweaty still from the day spent by the furnace and soot and charcoal on his hands and forearms.

You could only nod in wide-eyed surprise as he checked in to make sure you were okay and to tell you if you ever had someone in a group like that again to let him know.

Pero was only satisfied when you promised you would do so and let you go on about your evening. But you had only been able to think about your protector that night with those brown eyes that had looked so… soft and worried when he had checked in on you despite the furrows on his brow and the frown etched on his face. 

After that, you only seemed to be able to see the soft thoughtful things that the gruff man seemed to do without thinking.

Like the reason one of the local cats had made the smithing shop her home and decided to birth her kittens there, apparently, Pero had been feeding her part of his lunches for weeks when he noticed she had been too skinny. Or how it didn’t matter how many times you heard him get asked the same questions by different tours, he was always helpful and informative. You also could tell he was looking out for you, ever since that last bad encounter if he thought someone was hassling you he had taken to have you come into the main shop floor so you could show off the tools he was talking about as he worked. It gave you some space from any weirdos and you were rather sure that anyone who was thinking of speaking out of turn was given a sharp glare from the blacksmith.

Another thing you really started to notice? How every single tour with kids, the dark brawny man with the scary silver scar across his eye turned into the softest grump. He showed them tools, answering all their questions, let them hold things that were safe to do so, explaining how he could tell when the metal was ready to be worked by the colors it turned in the furnace. 

The kids and parents loved the interactive nature of the smithy so much that when it came time to go to the next area it was always a monumental task to making sure you still had everyone in your group. You had caught a kid here and there still entranced by the whole production when everyone else had headed out, but even you were human.

Now, seeing as this was actually the 21st century you did carry a phone in case of emergencies. If was kept hidden in your period-accurate and enormous pockets that were tied and hidden under your skirt and petticoats, but you had easy access through the side seams of your skirts.

“Hello?” You asked, a bit harried from dealing with two parents in fits about their missing kid.

“I think you might have left a guest here,” the familiar gruff tone calm over the phone.

You sagged in relief, “Oh thank goodness, the parents just realized they were missing one of their four littles.”

There was a gruff half chuckle on the other end of the line, “She snuck back in after your group left, I’ll meet you at your next stop. The apothecary on the main drag correct?”  
“Yep!” You confirmed. “I’ll let the parents know.”

After you hung up, you reassured the parents that their wayward child had been found and would be returned shortly. You nearly gaped when you saw Pero come around the corner.

The little girl, who was chattering away, was clutching onto two of his large fingers with her much smaller hand. She was only about four or five, and cute as a button, but he was apparently taking her conversation very seriously even though she was talking enough for both of them.

If you had thought you had a crush on that man before… well it just got worse and exponentially so.

As the girl was both hugged and scolded by her mother while her father dealt with keeping the rest of their young brood in line, Pero leaned slightly towards you. As he did so he also fiddled with the rolled-up sleeves of his linen shirt, and you did your best to not stare at his extremely nice forearms… it was a struggle.

“She demanded I teach her how to make a sword,” he told you, his tone rather deadpan but you could see a twinkle in his eyes that others might have missed.

“Oh?” you asked, with a huff of laughter. “What did you tell her?”

“That, of course, I would, after she went to school, and then she could become an apprentice and learn how to make swords.”

You had to cover your mouth as you snorted slightly, “I’m assuming you didn’t tell her how long that would take?”

Pero actually allowed you a quick little grin, and you noticed for the first time the man had a fricking _dimple_ in his one cheek. Who allowed him to have a dimple and a smile like that?!

“Out of all the questions she asked, she didn’t ask that one.”

You shook your head in amusement, “Well, thank you for bringing her over. It can be a little hard to backtrack with a group this size.”

“No problem,” he murmured, his brow wrinkling in thought. “I was wondering something though.”

As you waited for him to continue you watched as his ears started turning slightly red when he looked away from you. You barely had processed that the man was blushing before he was asking you his question.

“Could I take you out for drinks or ice-cream or whatever sometimes after work?”

You blinked, was Pero Tovar — gruff, scary looking, soft for kids, Pero Tovar — asking you out?

“You mean like? A date?” You asked and then almost kicked yourself for what you thought was a stupid sounding question.

“Yeah, like a date,” he confirmed, the smile returning to pull at the one side of his mouth again.

“I… would really like that,” you admitted, feeling heat cross your face as well.

“Friday night?” The smile was back again already, twitching the mustache he sported.

It was your turn to grin now, “You mean tomorrow? Yeah, that sounds good.”

~*~*~


End file.
